


Unanswered Questions

by thagirlwhocan



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Drunk Alison, Endless Forms Most Beautiful, Gen, Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thagirlwhocan/pseuds/thagirlwhocan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during 1.10. When Sarah Manning is taken from police custody, Arthur Bell is left with more questions than answers and becomes desperate to find someone who can fill in the missing pieces. Eventually his search leaves his with a single lead in the form of a familiar looking suburban housewife by the name of Alison Hendrix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unanswered Questions

**Author's Note:**

> So this story started from a Sarah/Alison prompt I got on Tumblr, but it eventually morphed into this. I really just loved the relationships between Sarah/Art and Sarah/Alison, and as soon as this idea was in my head I just knew I had to write it. If you want to follow me over on Tumblr my url is thagirlwhocan.   
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoy it!

Detective Arthur Bell knew he shouldn't be there – that he was going against every single thing he’d learned in training, but he couldn't make himself turn around. The drive back to the small brick house in Scarborough took less time than it did the first time around. The only difference this time was that he was doing it alone and it was off the books.

When he first saw the video of his old partner stepping in front of that train and Sarah Manning taking her things off the platform, he couldn’t contain his anger. And he wasn't just angry at Sarah Manning for manipulating him and taking the identity of his partner, but mostly at himself for not realizing that the woman wasn't Beth.

Once he looked back at all those weeks, it became so painfully obvious that the woman was never Beth.

So when they finally had Sarah Manning in custody, Art was more than ready to lay into her. But it all changed when he'd heard the message Sarah had left for him on Beth's phone.

Art, if you're hearing this, you found a body. It's not Beth. It's me. My name is Sarah Manning and you're about the only person I trust to figure the whole thing out.

The message itself took Art by surprise. It didn't take long for him to date the message to the night Beth, no, Sarah had gone to Maggie Chen's apartment, which made even less sense now that he knew it wasn’t Beth.

He could somewhat understand Beth returning to the woman's apartment after the shooting, but what connection did Sarah Manning have to the woman.

The message made one thing very clear, Sarah wasn't just going to the apartment on some whim, but to meet someone. And whoever it was she was meeting there that night, before Art showed up and broke down the door, Sarah for some reason had thought she might not make it out alive.

Sarah had been afraid and for some reason she had decided in that moment to trust Art to figure something out. Something that linked them all together.

So when he went in to have his second meeting with Sarah, he intended to figure out what that something was. Sarah Manning may have been pretending to be his dead partner, but there was no denying that they'd made some kind of connection in that short period of time. That much was obvious for the message she'd left him and the fact that she had saved his life.

If Sarah Manning was really the cold blooded killer he'd first suspected her to be, she would have let that sniper kill him in that dingy little apartment.  
He'd walked into that interrogation room determined to get answers, unfortunately he only left with more questions.

When he first heard the message she had left him, he could hear the fear in her voice, but that was nothing compared to seeing the fear on her face.

When he finished replaying the recording for her, he could see that she was vulnerable. That all she needed was a little push to get him the information he needed.

“Sarah, my partner killed herself and I didn't see it coming. Help me.” He paused. “Help Beth. I know you care.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew they had done what he wanted them to.

“There's a reason we look exactly the same Art.” Sarah said, her voice shaking on each word. “Why the prints match and the DNA is screwed up. But you have to promise to protect me and my daughter.”

“If that's what you need. I promise.” He replied without hesitation. Despite everything she'd done, he wanted to protect her and her young daughter.

Suddenly the door to the private room burst open and a man claiming to be Sarah's attorney came in. And it was clear from the look of hesitation on Sarah's face that she didn't know and more importantly, didn't trust the man who had come to take her away.

He came so close only to have the one person who could tell him the truth taken right from his hands.

He was getting desperate. So he set Deangelis to work on finding anyone with a connection to Sarah Manning that they hadn't already talked with. Thankfully it didn't take long for her to track down one Victor Matheson.

Art wasn't all that surprised at the limited amount of information they got from the man, but they did manage to get something.

“Last time I saw Sarah, she was playing housewife in the suburbs. Husband, kids, minivan. The whole shebang.” The man said, the bitterness clear in his voice.

Within thirty minutes, they found themselves waiting on a street corner in Scarborough. And it didn't take long after their arrival for a familiar face to step out the front door of 35 Black Oak Drive. Art's first instinct told him that it was Sarah Manning, but as the seconds went past it became obvious that it wasn't her. 

“That – that isn't Sarah Manning is it?” Angie stammered.

“No. That is another person entirely.” Art said, not believing the sight before his eyes.

“You've got to be freaking kidding me.”

In their rush to get to the house, Art never got the chance to run the address through their system to see who actually lived there. The moment they got back to the station Angie went straight for one of the few couches they had in the lounge to lay down. Art on the other hand, went straight for his desk.

Plugging in the address into their system got him a name. Alison Hendrix. Whoever the woman was, they didn't have a single bit of information on her in their database. But a quick search in Google pulled up more than enough information, including a number of pictures.

At first Art thought this woman could have been Sarah Manning living some kind of elaborate second life in the suburbs. Victor Matheson had certainly thought so.

But Alison Hendrix was a completely different person with a whole other life. His internet search pulled up articles and photos that backed it all up. There were countless photos and local news articles about the woman acting in community theatre, running charity drives, and coaching her children's sports teams.

As out there as it was, Art could wrap his mind around three different women looking exactly the same. Triplets are uncommon, but they do happen from time to time. But four?

What was even more bizarre was that all four women were born in the same year, but months apart from each other.

Art was at a complete loss. As he thought back over everything that had happened that day, he paused and started really thinking over their visit to Scarborough. At the time, he'd been so distracted by the woman's face that she didn't really pay close attention to Alison herself.

The woman was on edge when she'd come out her front door, like she was keeping a look out for someone or something, almost as if she were afraid. Alison Hendrix didn't have any solid connection to their case, but something in Art's gut was telling him that she was somehow involved with Sarah and possibly even Beth.

And that's how Art found himself back in Scarborough later that evening as the sun was beginning to set. He'd spent the entire drive back to the neighborhood listing reason after reason why he shouldn't go back, but he just couldn't make himself turn around. He needed to know.

As Art got out of his car, he made sure to remove his gun, badge, and anything else that could identify him as a cop. It was clear that Alison was already spooked and he didn't want to do anything else that might scare her off.

It was finally the moment of truth. After taking a deep breath, Art knocked on the door three times. A few moments of silence went past until he heard some stumbling inside and the door swung open.

Earlier that afternoon he'd seen Alison Hendrix from a distance, but seeing another doppelganger standing right in front of him of almost too much.

“Ah yes hello.” She hiccuped. “How can I help you?” The woman said with a small but fake smile, clearly suspicions of him. It didn't take much for him to realize that the woman standing in front of him was very drunk from the way she swayed in the doorway and the smell of alcohol coming off her breath.

“Hi my name is Arthur Bell.” He said holding out a hand.

Alison narrowed her eyes for a moment, as if she were confused by his appearence on her doorstep, but then her face cleared like a light switch had gone off in her head.

“Ah detective.” Alison said smiling again. “How can I help you this evening?” She asked as she turned around and walked back into the house leaving the door open for Art to follow.

Art dropped his hand to the side. Once again he'd been taken by surprise. Whoever this woman was, she knew exactly who he was. Running a hand over his face he followed the drunk woman inside and closed and locked the door behind him.

When he turned back to follow her, he noticed that she had disappeared from the hallway, but eventually he found her downstairs slouching on a couch cradling a rather full glass of red wine in her hands.

By the time he sat down across from her, Alison Hendrix had gone from pleasantly tipsy to looking very upset about something.

“I'm so very sorry.” Alison said over her wine glass before she took another generous sip.

Art's heart stopped. “For what?”

“For your loss.” She said with another hiccup.

He immediately knew who she was talking about. “You knew Beth?”

A fond smile crossed Alison's face. “She was a very good person and I owe her a lot.” She said, her face falling again. “I couldn't believe it when I found out that she killed herself.”

If Art didn't already believe that Alison Hendrix was somehow mixed up in everything that was happening, he certainly did now. The information concerning Beth's death hadn't been released to the public yet, so Alison had to have already known about her suicide and Sarah Manning's involvement.

“So how do you know Sarah Manning?” Art asked, quickly changing the subject.

“She's a good person too.” She replied with another fond smile. “And she has a lovely daughter.”

Art shouldn’t have let his anger get to him, but Alison’s kind words towards the woman who had been impersonating his dead partner struck a chord deep inside of him.

“If you really cared for Beth, how can you possibly think Sarah Manning is a good person? She stole the face and identity of a dead woman and fooled everyone that cared for Beth, making us believe that she was still alive.” Art snapped, letting his anger at the situation finally get the best of him.

Instead of sinking further into the couch in shame like he'd expected the woman to do, she quickly jumped to her feet and got up in his face.

“You listen to me. You don't know a single thing about Sarah Manning and what she and the rest of us have been through alright. Everything that woman has done is for the safety of her daughter. So don't pass judgements on her when you can't possibly comprehend what she's done for us and the danger she's put herself in! We've all made mistakes in our lives, but Sarah is not the same person she was when we first met her. She’s changed – we all have.” Alison finished.

Art was taken aback by how protective the suburban housewife was over Sarah Manning.

Turning back around, Alison plopped herself back down on the couch in front of him, reclaiming her glass in the process.

“Mrs. Hendrix is anyone else home?” Art asked. From what he'd learned online, he knew that Alison was married with two kids, and with all the noise they'd been making he'd expected someone to come down to see what was going on, but the home was silent.

Alison let out a sad sigh. “No.” She huffed, taking another sip of wine. “I don't know where Donnie is, and the kids are at my mother's. I can't have them here, not now.” She said, clearly worried about something. “Not when she's out there on the loose.”

“Not when who's out there?” Art asked. The only person that he could think of who was ‘on the loose’ was Sarah Manning, but it wasn’t his fault that she was out of police custody. Besides, why would Alison be upset about that?

“Which is all your fault by the way.” Alison continued, completely ignoring Art's question. “If you hadn’t of arrested Sarah then she wouldn’t of escaped and my children could be home right now, but nope.” She said right before taking one last large gulp of wine from her now empty glass. 

Whoever it was Alison was talking about, the woman who had escaped, it clearly wasn’t Sarah Manning. And for some reason she blamed him.

“I don’t know what to do.” She said with a sniffle. “I can’t trust them - I know that, but I need their protection. I need to protect my family” Her eyes momentarily glancing to a spot past Art to a small desk in the corner where a small but neat stack of papers were located. After a few moments her eyes fell back down to her empty wine glass. 

Art glanced to the papers then back to her, thinking back to the conversation he’d had with Sarah Manning earlier that day.

There's a reason we look exactly the same Art. Why the prints match and the DNA is screwed up. But you have to promise to protect me and my daughter.

Like Sarah, Alison needed protection. 

Before he could ask who it was she needed protection from, Alison continued talking as if Art wasn’t even there.

“Sarah won’t take their offer. I know she won’t. And I know she doesn’t think I should either, but what am I suppose to do? I’m I suppose to just sit here and wait for Helena to show up and kill me like she did the German?” She said with a huff. “I can’t do it. I won’t put my children through that.”

The German. The facial reconstruction and fingerprints from the quarry body, they matched up with a German woman named Katja Obinger. Another doppelganger. Up until that point they had no real leads on who killed the woman, but now Art had a name. Helena.

Sarah had sworn up and down that it was a man who had attacked her and that she hadn’t seen his face that day when they had followed the lead on the bike. Then there was the little boy that confirmed that it was a woman in his home that same night. And when they asked him what the ‘angry angel’ looked like, he’d pointed straight at Sarah. Was it possible?

It would explain why Sarah would lie about not seeing her attackers face and why she was on edge when they went to interview the child. Was it possible that the person who killed the German and shot at them was another doppelganger. 

Art quickly counted it up in his head and if his theory about the killer was correct, then there would be five of them. Elizabeth Childs, Sarah Manning, Alison Hendrix, Katja Obinger, and Helena.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Art focused back on Alison, who was apparently still talking.

“And I don’t know about Cosima, she may or may not take them up on their offer. She doesn’t trust them either, but she might not be able to pass up on the chance to study us like she’s always wanted to.” Alison paused and let out a deep yawn. “If she agrees to their terms, then she’ll have complete access to all the information they have and she’ll have free range to study us as she pleases, and that’s all she’s really wanted since this whole thing started.”

“What do you mean when you say that she would have free range to study us?” Art could feel it, he was so close. He knew he shouldn’t be taking advantage of the drunk woman’s loose tongue, but he had to know.

Alison rolled her eyes like he was asking her a stupid question. 

“She would have all the information she needs to study us, to study all the…” Alison stopped and narrowed her eyes at the detective. Art got the feeling that he’d pushed too far and that the woman was two seconds away from throwing him out of her house, but instead she collapsed onto the couch in a fit of giggles. 

“You almost had me there.” She said, her laugher subsiding as she snuggled into one of the pillows near her head, looking like she was about to take a nap. “I almost broke the first rule.”

Art leaned forward, resting his forearms on his legs. “The first rule of what?”

Alison let out another yawn and closed her eyes. When she finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper as she started slipping into unconsciousness.

“The first rule of Clone Club.” 

And with that, Alison fell into a drunken slumber.


End file.
